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55 



Break forth into singing; the morning has dawned ^ \\ i^-ivv .-v^.. . m^J 



NEW YORK 

Anson D. F. Randolph & Com 

900 Broadway, Cor. 20th Street 



COPTRIGHT. 1886. BT ANSON D. ». RANDO 




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I. 

AEE the land, her Easter keeping, 
^^ Rises as her Master rose : 
Seeds so long in darkness sleeping 

Burst at last from winter's snows. 
Earth with heaven above rejoices ; 

Fields and gardens hail the spring ; — 
Shaughs and woodlands ring with voices, 

While the wild birds build and sing. 



II. 

^fVjE breathe a golden atmosphere 

Of solemn joy, and seem to hear 
Within, above, and all around. 
The chime of deep cathedral bells. 
An Qarly herald peal, that tells 
A glorious Easter-tide begun ; 
While yet are sparkling in the sun 
Large rain-drops of the night-storm passed, 
And days of Lent are gone at last. 



III. 

** T^HE Lord has risen ! '* Our life appears 
Divine in that diviner light, 
Which shines immortal through our tears, 
What time we sit in sorrow's night. 
*' The Lord has risen — has risen indeed ! '' 
Throughout the earth the tidings run. 
In higher thought and holier deed, 
Life blossoms to her living Sun. 



IV. 

f^lYREEZES of spring, all earth to life awaking, 
^^ Birds swiftly soaring through the sunny sky, 
The butterfly its lonely prison breaking, 

The seed up-springing which had seemed to die, — 
Types such as these a word of hope have spoken, 

Have shed a gleam of light around the tomb ; 
But weary hearts longed for a surer token, 

A clearer ray to dissipate its gloom. 



V. 

pfrND this was granted ! See the Lord ascending, 
^ On crimson clouds of evening calmly borne, 
With hands outstretched, and looks of love still 
bending 

On His bereaved ones, who no longer mourn. 
** I am the resurrection,'* hear Him saying! 

** I am the life ; he who believes in Me 
Shall never die: the souls My call obeying, 

Soon where I am, forevermore shall be/' 



VL 

^YjE have no need to stand and weep with Mary, 
For He who rose that day shall weep no more ; 
Yet sometimes now, our eyes grow dim with sorrow, 

We can not see the Lord whom we adore, 
And gloomy doubts rise up like clouds before us ; 

" Is what we counted gain an utter loss? 
Is it a dream, a myth, the blessed story 

Of Christ our Saviour and His precious cross ? *' 



VII. 

*' /JYIVE us a sign!'* cries out the world that 
hates Him ; 

The Master as of old makes no reply ; 
But, to the heart of every true disciple, 

Be sure the blessed Sav^iour will draw nigh, 
And call each one by name, as He did Mary ; 

And, though the stone seemed rolled before the 
door, 
The risen Lord Himself shall stand before you, 

For Jesus is the same forevermore. 



VIII. 
T^HE night IS past, its sleep and its forgetting; 

Our risen Sun, no more forever setting, 
Pours everlasting day. 

Let us not bring upon this joyful morning 
Dead myrrh and spices for our Lord^s adorning. 

Nor any lifeless thing ; 
Our gifts shall be the fragrance and the splendor 
Of living flowers, in breathing beauty tender, 

The glory of our spring. 



LIBRftRY OF CONGRESS 




016 165 669 • 



